


Blaze of Glory: Magical vs. Muggle

by Elena78



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:31:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7803784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elena78/pseuds/Elena78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Magical War is over, and life goes on as normal. However, just when the Magical world thought they were safe, something Darker, and more powerful threatens to destroy everything they know. The Muggles are seeing into their world and want a piece of it too. How will a war between the Muggles and Magical people end up? Post-Hogwarts, AU, loosely based on DH epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blaze of Glory: Magical vs. Muggle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The title of the story ‘Blaze of Glory’, the lyrics contained within this chapter, and this Chapter Title ‘The final Stand’ is/inspired by – Jon Bon Jovi’s song ‘Blaze of Glory’.
> 
> This is dedicated to all SAYSer’s out there :) I miss you all and the dynamic we all shared.
> 
> A huge thank you to celticbard too, for going over a few tid bits for me, and to PenguinsWillReignSupreme, for Beta-ing this story :)

**March/April 2005** **  
  
_I wake up in the morning_ _  
And I raise my weary head  
I got an old coat for a pillow  
And the earth was last night's bed_**

The morning dew bit into his face before he felt a cold droplet slide down his cheek. Stirring, he moved the hat, that had slipped off his face, and sat up. The birds were just beginning to wake, their morning song soft and sweet, hiding the darkness that was soon to come. He had no time to fight off the sleep; instead, he jumped to his feet and dusted off his clothes. He took the holster that was slung over a tree branch and fitted it to his waist. It still amused him that the darkness he faced now was far greater than the Dark Lord had even dreamed of.  
  
Picking up his coat off the ground, he shook it out before flinging it over his shoulders and sliding his arms into it. He moved quietly over to his horse, which was grazing nearby.  
  
"Time to go, boy," he whispered to the animal, before patting him. "I promise to get you some proper feed soon. But first, I need you to help me get to safety, okay?"  
  
The horse neighed softly and he placed his foot in the reigns, heaving himself up and settling into the saddle. Placing his hat on his head, he gave the horse's rump a soft kick, and he was trotting off into the forest.  
  
The greatest Wizarding war was behind them; however, what no-one in the magical world realised was that a darker force was working against them. A few straggling Death Eater wannabes had managed to tap into some ancient magic, which had released some kind of curse over the world. Suddenly, every Muggle was now like a Squib. They could see and were aware of the magical world, and soon enough, human greed took over.  
  
He had entered this latest battle late in the game. He had moved away from the magical society, wanting to get away from it all, his blood lineage and the history that surrounded his name. He wanted to find who he truly was, not just what kind of wizard he was, but what kind of man he was. To do this, he had to leave his mother and everything he knew, and settle in amongst the Muggles. He purchased some land in the country, a herd of cattle and sheep, and set up his own little farm. He hired some Muggle men to help him learn the ropes, which is what his downfall managed to be.  
  
When the curse was released, these men who he had befriended, had been the first to turn against him. He had thought he was being discreet with his magic, only using it sparingly, and never in front of Muggle eyes. Even when he met the love of his life, and held his secret, magical wedding, he had thought he was safe. Now he knew better. He had become aware of the traces placed against him, the wards put into place to protect him, and the owls that were used to spy on him. What he had never expected, was the abduction of his new bride, and for him to seek out help from old enemies.

**_I don't know where I'm going_ ** _  
**Only God knows where I've been**  
**I'm a devil on the run**  
**A six-gun lover**  
**A candle in the wind**_

The first time he sought out Potter, he had sworn it would be the last, but the love he felt for his bride was far too great, and he swallowed his pride. The meeting was actually quick; however, as he sat listening to what had been going on while he was away from the magical world, he began to feel numb, but mostly, betrayed in the worst way. Potter explained the wards and traces placed upon him. His mother had requested them when he had left. For her, it was to make sure he was safe. For Potter, it was to make sure he wasn't starting a new Dark army. Everything he thought he was being discreet about was known to Potter and his friends. Even his wedding night was no mystery to them, and listening to one of his worst enemies discuss his personal life like it was front page news set off a deep, burning rage inside of him.  
  
By the end of the meeting, he walked away with revenge in mind. Draco had learned that the men he had hired were the ones who took his wife. Potter sent him home to await a ransom for her, but he wasn't going to play those games. He knew these men well enough to know how to track them, only that didn't pay off well for him either. What he hadn't accounted for was the Muggle weaponry. A wizard had a very powerful weapon in his or her possession from the moment they turned 11. The difference between his world and that of the Muggles was that his world had better control of the rules and regulations. The Muggle world was full of chaos, disrespect, and the despair in the community was thick.  
  
He never really cared for the Muggle world before; he simply lived within it, peacefully at that. But now they wanted something from him, something he couldn't give them, and their bargaining chip was his wife. When he finally caught up with the low life men who had betrayed him, he found that they had sold his wife to someone else, someone who had a lot of money in their world, which was their only power. But now they wanted magic too, they wanted his magic.  
  
When he drew his wand, he only meant to frighten the men into talking, to tell them how he could find his wife. But they were quicker, a loud sonic boom echoed around them, and he was on the ground. He had dropped his wand as he fell, and tried to scramble to his feet to find it, but his left leg was useless and the pain he felt was indescribable, so he howled out in agony.  
  
"You lookin' for this?" one of the men said, and he could hear laughing in the background.  
  
Opening his eyes, which he hadn't realised he had closed; he tried to get back on his feet. The man was waving his wand around, and doing some kind of dance while other people gathered around to watch and cheer.  
  
"You ain't gettin' this back, boy!" the man said.  
  
He managed to get to his feet, and narrowed his eyes at the man. "Actually, I think I will have that back now." He held out his hand, and with the quickest of movements, his wand flew out of the man's hand and into his own. He smirked at the shocked looks of the Muggles. "We don't really need them, once we learn how to use wandless magic, but not having one makes simple spells very hard to perform." He wasn't sure why he was explaining anything, and the pain from his leg was starting to spread. He felt a little light headed, but focused on the people surrounding him. "And I need it, to do this..." He spun around on the spot and Disapparated, leaving the men, and the others that had gathered around, shocked by what they had witnessed.  
  
He had been on the run ever since.  
  
He removed the piece of metal from his leg, healed his wound and kept on moving. He had once hunted these men down now he was the wanted man. Once word had spread about what had happened, and the magic he had used in front of them, the Muggles went in search of him, and trying to identify other magical people. He had exposed them, exposed his magical abilities, and the Muggles became obsessed with obtaining them.  
  
More than once, some of the smarter ones managed to track him down, and a fight would erupt. He always managed to escape and collect some of the Muggle weaponry that he disarmed from his opponents. He never kept them loaded, but the glint of chrome, or a quick flash of his weapons scared the normal Muggles, the ones who just wanted to live their normal lives. They would talk quite easily, wanting to move on and get home, where they felt safe.  
  
He had no home to go to, not anymore.

**_When you're brought into this world_ ** _  
**They say you're born in sin**  
**Well at least they gave me something**  
**I didn't have to steal or have to win**_

 

Never before in his life had he cursed his magic. He now felt burdened with such a gift, that he had always believed made him superior. There was no way the Muggles could win a war against them, their magic could do so much more than Muggle weaponry, so he mostly couldn't understand this human need for magic. What he did feel was the loneliness and emptiness that gnawed in the pit of his gut and burned his heart. Not having his new bride with him, was almost enough to let go of it all. His upbringing wouldn't let him though. He _knew_ how far more superior he was compared to the Muggles, and it was that which kept him going. _  
  
_ Thinking about his upbringing, brought back too many memories. Some good, and some bad. Mostly, it made him laugh at the wealth they once boasted. His magical abilities ensured he had never gone without anything before, but now it was of no use. Magic couldn't find or help the one thing he wanted most in the world. He felt useless and unworthy of her, but he was determined to find her, even if that meant dying in his search.

His horse now moved quickly, galloping over the soft grass of an open field. His thoughts were so wrapped up in his wife that he didn't see the men that had been lying in wait.

 

**_Well they tell me that I'm wanted_ ** _  
**Yeah, I'm a wanted man**_

 

The first shot rang out, his horse rearing in fright, and throwing him off its back. Before he was even on his feet, his trusted steed was already sprinting away. He grabbed his wand and rose to his feet. He was surrounded, but he simply smirked at them all.  
  
"I do not want to hurt any of you," he said. He didn't need to shout or raise his voice, because the men were close. "I just want my wife."  
  
"I wanted her too, when I took her from her bed that night." He whipped his head to his right, and stared at the face of the man he thought he knew so well. "She is a pretty young thing, isn't she."  
  
"You filthy, Mudblood, animal!" he growled. His old tone was back, there was no hint of the new man left in him. " ** _Where_ is _she_**?"  
  
Before the man could answer, he heard that sonic boom again. He used every magical curse he could think of; he wasn't in a fair duel, so the rules of the game had changed. His first priority was to disarm the men, and then he made sure they stayed down. He refused to kill any of them, swearing that he would save that one deadly curse for the man who had his wife.

 

**_I'm colt in your stable_ ** _  
**I'm what Cain was to Abel**_

 

But no matter how hard he tried, nothing ever worked in his favour. There was only him left standing, along with the man who had taken, and sold his wife.  
  
"Mint," the man said, with a smile. "That was what her breath smelled like. Fresh mint!"

 

**_Mister, catch me if you can_ **

 

He narrowed his eyes at the man as he stared down the barrel of the Muggle weapon pointed at him. "You will _never_ get me!" he whispered, and raised his wand.  
  
There was a loud booming sound, as he said just one more word, "Sectumsempra!"

 

**_I'm going down in a blaze of glory_ ** _  
**Take me now but know the truth**_

 

He heard the man scream, and then he felt a massive thud upon his chest and he flew backwards.

 

_**I'm going down in a blaze of glory** _

 

He looked up at the sky; the sun was fully over the horizon, and he saw a brilliant blue above him. Perhaps that was where he belonged, up there where all the clouds drifted.

 

**_Lord I never drew first_ ** **_  
**But I drew first blood**  
**I'm no one's son**  
**Call me young gun**_ **

 

He was alone, he knew his spell had worked before he was hit, he knew that he wanted to close his eyes and never wake up. He deserved the eternal sleep, nothing he ever did ended up being right, so he closed his eyes. The brilliant blue turned to black, and that was the last thing he saw.

 

**_You ask about my conscience_ ** **_  
**And I offer you my soul**_ **

 

Her hair was golden in colour, her alabaster skin was flawless, her brilliant blue eyes, which hid beneath long lashes, twinkled as she smiled.  
  
"Draco Malfoy?" she asked so sweetly. "I never thought I'd see the day that you'd be out here."  
  
He was confused. Even though the sight of her made his heart thump in his chest, he wasn't sure what was going on. "Are we dead?"  
  
She looked shocked and surprised, and covered her mouth. "Really, it isn't that bad being in the Muggle world," she composed herself and sat down at a table. "Haven't you developed a conscience yet?"  
  
He looked around them, when it slowly began to dawn on him. He was standing on a Muggle street in the town that wasn't far from his property. He was there to buy...He searched his thoughts, before it clicked. Yes, he was here to hire the men to help him at his new farm. This is where he had met her for the first time.  
  
"If I'm not dead, then I am dreaming." He smiled and sat opposite her. They were at a café, and she was looking over the menu, ignoring the fact that he had taken a seat. "You not only captured my heart, but you took my soul as well."  
  
She looked up from the menu with a raised brow. "Have you been drinking whiskey at the bar?"  
  
He smiled and relaxed. "No, but my soul is yours, if you want it."

~~*~~

"We got to him just in time."  
  
Harry looked up from a bunch of papers he was reading, and relief flooded him. "That's good to hear," Harry responded, and smiled at Hermione.  
  
"Can we talk now, about why we are helping him?" a new voice said, and Harry saw Ron enter the room. He placed a small kiss on his wife's cheek and sat down on the lounge chair.  
  
Harry sighed and took a seat at the desk he had been standing by. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the headache that had been throbbing behind it and his eyes to go away. "Because he's one of us," Harry said, but it felt like it was the hundredth time he had done so.  
  
"No," Ron shook his head, "he's still Malfoy; the evil git who tried to kill you."  
  
Harry looked at his friend who, by all means, was right. It wasn't that Harry wanted to help Draco in any way - he had to. He turned his look to Hermione, and his face fell. He could see by the look on her face, that she knew the worst was yet to come. She slowly inched her way to the lounge chair, and sat next to Ron.  
  
"What aren't you telling us, Harry?" Her voice was calm, but her look was fearful. He hadn't seen that look on her face since Voldemort had come back.  
  
The truth had to be told, Harry knew he was only delaying the inevitable, so he took a deep breath, and hoped for the best. "We don't know how to conceal our world anymore." He shook his head. "The spells and charms we usually use is not strong enough to hold, and we have no idea what curse was used to counter our magic. No-one, not even anyone at the Ministry can identify what is happening, or how to stop it."  
  
"That is because none of you know the Dark Arts."  
  
Everyone turned their heads, and Draco was leaning against the doorframe. He was pale from blood loss, but his face had rounded out and was not as angular as it used to be in their school days. He had gained a few pounds, but was still relatively athletic for a young man of their age. Living the Muggle life was good for Draco, although his smirk had remained the same. Hermione, though, was not fazed by him and a scowl sat firmly on her face.  
  
"The Dark Arts will not help us in anyway," she said calmly. "What we need is to know what curse was used, so we know how to find a counter curse. My research in ancient Egyptian mythology hasn't revealed much, and the Ministry has everyone working around the clock, trying to figure it out."  
  
"They won't find anything. If you want to solve this, you need my help..." Draco paused as he looked at the three faces in the room, "and you need the help of my father."  
  
"You're mental!" Ron said. He stood up to face Draco, his face red with anger. "I'd rather see your father be kissed by a Dementor than have his help for anything."  
  
No-one expected Draco's response. He shrugged his shoulders, sat down in the arm chair that was opposite the lounge chair, and sighed. "Then the world that we know is gone forever."  
  
The silence that filled the room was deafening. Each person was lost in their own thoughts, but a few moments later, Harry stood up, poured out four glasses of whiskey, and handed them out. Before he handed Draco his, he asked the only question he could think of.  
  
"I can't pardon your father, but even if I could arrange a temporary release, how can you be so sure you are right?"  
  
Taking his glass of whiskey, Draco downed the drink in one gulp, enjoying the burning sensation as it hit his throat. "Because, Potter, we are far more superior in comparison to the Muggles. We _are_ better than them, and yet they have the upper hand on us. How is that possible?" Draco quirked a brow, but there was no smirk on his face now.  
  
"You, and your ruddy superiority!" Ron spat. "What the hell would you know? You were ready to hand Harry over to Voldemort, for Merlin's sake! Now, you want us to work with you and your Death Eater father against the Muggles? I should have left you to burn, just like your mate did!"  
  
The calm, numb feeling that Draco had was slowly disappearing. He rose from his seat, ignoring the thumping pain in his chest from his wound, and stood face to face with Ron. "You need to wise up, Weasley."  
  
"You can burn in hell, Malfoy!"  
  
"Enough! The both of you, that's enough!" Hermione tried, but neither man was backing down.  
  
"How did a stupid idiot like you get married to the brightest witch of her age? Does she do all your thinking for you, or can you manage to decipher a few things for yourself?" Draco said, standing almost nose to nose with Ron.  
  
Ron took a small step back and saw Draco's lip curl up. Before anyone knew it, Ron had swung his arm back and punched Draco. A howl rang out in the room, and Draco dropped to the floor, holding his nose.  
  
"That's twice now, Malfoy. Care to go for round three?" Ron grinned.  
  
Harry moved to help Draco back up but he shrugged Harry away and got to his feet. He swiped at his bloody nose, and his rage rose to the surface. "You are an idiot!" Draco said, and smiled. "You, of all people, should get what I am saying."  
  
Ron looked around them, trying to figure out what Draco meant. "Me?"  
  
"Yeah, you. You grew up knowing the tales of You-Know-Who. You grew up in fear of speaking Voldemort's name. You knew before Harry and Hermione that Voldemort was not a wizard you ever wanted to cross paths with." Draco paused for a moment, and Ron was still trying to figure out where he was going with his speech. "Even Voldemort couldn't penetrate the kinds of magic that these Muggles have, yet Voldemort was deemed the most feared Dark Wizard. So what kind of magic are we really up against, that is stronger than what any of us know?"  
  
Draco was breathing hard, and his nose wasn't letting up. Hermione offered him a box of tissues, and he took them without saying a word to her. "Now, on top of all of that, imagine some Muggle took your wife, Ron. Imagine not knowing if she was okay, if she was dead or alive, or even in any pain. Imagine looking for her for..." He paused, trying to figure out how long it had been.  
  
"Eighteen months," Hermione offered.  
  
"Has it really been that long?" Draco seemed faint and he staggered backwards. "Imagine her gone for eighteen months, and no matter how hard you try, even with all the magic you possess, you can't find her." Draco finally became drained, and stumbled back into the arm chair.  
  
"Call Ginny," Hermione said to Harry.  
  
Draco looked up at Ron. "Now what do you think of your Muggles?"  
  
He watched Ron's face. He saw him look at Hermione, watching her fuss about Draco's nose, trying to get it to stop bleeding, and then he saw it. Ron's eyes turned from cold, hard orbs, too soft, glazed over ones. He could tell that Ron felt the love surface and the hatred fade away.  
  
"But how do we fight...it?" Ron struggled to name whatever it was they had to fight, because they didn't know what ‘it' actually was.  
  
Draco shook his head. "I don't know."  
  
Nothing more could be said, as Ginny rushed into the room. "Get him back to his bed," she said, motioning to Ron and Hermione to help, "he shouldn't have gotten up."  
  
"Where have you been?" Hermione asked as she placed on of Draco's arms around her shoulders to help him up.  
  
"I'll explain later." Ginny's lips were tight. "Help him." She looked at Draco with sad eyes.

 

**_You ask If I'll grow to be a wise man_ ** **_  
**Well I ask if I'll grow old**  
**You ask me if I know love**  
**And what it's like to sing songs in the rain**_ **

 

She had managed to stop the bleeding, and dabbed at his forehead with a cool wash cloth. She shook her head as she thought of all the healing Draco had to do, and hoped everything would work out for him. She technically was on leave, her medi-witch hat, had been put away for the time being, and she was supposed to be resting. This new war had her working overtime though, and the magical community that she once knew was falling apart.  
  
Draco stirred, and she moved her hand away, just as he began to sit up. "You really should stay down and let your body heal."  
  
He blinked a few times, before his eyes focused on who was speaking to him. "I remember reading somewhere that you had retired from Quidditch." Ginny nodded, picked up her wand, and began checking Draco's vital signs. "You...use your magic?  
  
Ginny paused what she was doing, looking at him so surprised. "Yes. I cannot heal you without some magic."  
  
"But they trace it. I don't know how, but they know." Draco sounded panicked and Ginny shook her head.  
  
"It’s okay, Draco. They haven't found a way around the Secret Keeper concealment. We are safe for now." Ginny tried to ease him, but she could tell he wasn't buying her explanation. "I'm sorry about Astoria," she said, trying to divert the conversation, "we have been doing everything we can to try and find her."  
  
At the mention of her name, Draco slumped back, his head hitting his pillow with a dull thud. "Yeah, so have I."  
  
"We will find her, and we _will_ stop this madness," Ginny said with more conviction in her voice.  
  
"How can you be so sure?"  
  
"Because Harry has sent for your father's release. He should be here soon. We have also sent for your mother." She smiled. "I'm sorry about Ron," she continued, "he has a lot to learn yet, as do you." She gave Draco her best ‘Molly look', the one all mothers gave their children.  
  
Draco chuckled. "Yeah, well, I'll just settle with making it to be older and wiser." He shook his head. "For a moment, I wished that it was over...you know?"  
  
Ginny nodded, and a sadness came over her face. "But you have something to live for. I don't believe she is dead. She is alive and waiting for you. You have to know that...deep down, surely you know?"  
  
He looked at Ginny, who no longer was the girl he remembered, and nodded his head. "I do. It's the only thing that keeps me going."

 

**_Well, I've seen love come_ ** **_  
**And I've seen it shot down**  
**I've seen it die in vain**_ **

 

There was nothing Draco could compare his love to, because he hadn't known this kind of happiness before. He had known how his parents felt for each other, but he never wanted their relationship either. His parents loved each other, there was no doubt there; however, he saw how destructive it was, how it was stretched, used, torn apart, pieced together, and finally died out when Lucius was sent to Azkaban.  
  
He was certain that some part of his mother still loved his father, but she never let it show. She hadn't cried when he was taken away from them, she simply accepted the hand they had been dealt and moved on with her life. Draco made a promise to himself from that moment that if he ever fell in love, he'd never put his wife through what his father put his mother through. Only now, he felt like he was failing at keeping that promise, and that perhaps this was his ultimate punishment for what he had done in the past.  
  
There was movement beside him, and he realised that he had forgotten that Ginny was in the room with him, and she was leaving him to be alone.  
  
"Your brother," Draco began, "he needs to work with us, not against us." He locked eyes with the red headed woman standing at the door. "How far along are you?"  
  
"Seven months." Her hand moved gently over her bump, as if soothing the baby inside.  
  
"We're fighting for his or her survival now, not just our own. If we fail, everything changes. Our world disappears, and so does the future for our children."  
  
Ginny nodded, and he could tell she understood. "It's a he." She smiled and left the room.

 

_**Shot down in a blaze of glory** _ **_  
_Take me now but know the truth_  
_‘Cause I'm going down in a blaze of glory__ **

 

He closed his eyes and tried to rest. He was fatigued, he was mentally and emotionally drained, as well as physically. For a moment, he felt sorry for himself, taking pity on the fact that no matter what he did, he still always ended up being wrong. In that moment, he again wished it would all just be over...but as always, that moment passed and he remembered why he kept going.

He couldn't tell her or anyone else how much he understood about love. It would make him sound like nothing more than a love sick fool. The truth was, he loved feeling this way. He missed the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he thought about her, or waiting in anticipation of seeing her again. He missed the floral scent of her hair mixed with the musky smell of the perfume she wore. He missed how her delicate lips would gently tug up on one side when she was nervous, or the sweet smell of her breath. Her laugh could brighten any room, and her soft nature could comfort even the biggest of creatures.

**_Lord I never drew first_ ** **_  
**But I drew first blood**  
**I'm no one's son**  
**Call me young gun**_ **

 

She filled a hole in his life. His father was gone, and he left his mother to be on his own. He had no-one else in his life who loved him and for him to love back. Astoria gave him that back, and he remembered that the night of their wedding. He was the first to draw blood to the surface of his hand, the magical binding potion was ready, all that was needed was a drop of his blood and a drop of hers. When the potion was fused with their promise to each other, and they sipped the potion, their magical lives were intertwined forever.

 

**_Each night I go to bed_ ** **_  
**I pray the Lord my soul to keep**  
**No I ain't looking for forgiveness**  
**But before I'm six-foot deep**_ **

 

The potion ensured that he would always know if she was okay. Ginny knew, obviously she and Potter performed the same ritual. It was one that only took place among pure-blood unions, so naturally the Weasley family would know of it. Regardless of that, he loved Astoria with every fibre of his being, and before he did depart from this world, he had to find her. His thoughts jumbled around for a while before sleep finally took him.

 

**_Lord, I got to ask a favour_ ** **_  
**And I'll hope you'll understand**  
**'Cause I've lived life to the fullest**  
**Let the boy die like a man**_ **

 

He woke to many voices and sounds echoing in his ears. He struggled to open his eyes, and his body felt like it was made of solid lead. He dragged himself up and out of bed, stumbling to the door. Once it was open, he wished it were closed again.  
  
The noise was deafening, like being in a packed stadium, only in a confined space. He tripped down the hall, not knowing exactly where he was going, but following the noise he was hearing. Finally, his eyes cleared and the fog lifted from his mind, and he found the source of all the commotion.  
  
There had to be about fifty patronuses in the living room, and Harry standing in the middle. They each carried their own message, but there was only one that stood out from the rest.  
  
"They have taken control of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom is doing all he can, but we have no idea how long it takes before they breach the boundary to Diagon Alley."  
  
All eyes were on a small, silver fox, even the other patronuses stopped and looked. Harry was shaking his head, his eyes were closed, and Draco could tell he was struggling to think.  
  
"Has anyone heard from my father?" His voice seemed so loud in the new silence, but he wasn't prepared for what was to come next.  
  
"He's missing, and so is your mother." Ron emerged from behind the patronuses, with a deadly look upon his face. "If he is responsible for what's going on, I swear, I will make you pay with your life."  
  
"We have nothing to do with this!" Draco had hoped he sounded angry, but he was weak and it showed in his voice. "In case you have forgotten, it’s my wife they have."  
  
"Perhaps you staged it this way, to get back at us," Ron fumed, and stepped closer to Draco.  
  
"Snap out of it, Ron. Why would I want to destroy my own world?"  
  
Draco's question hung in the air, and for a while, no-one spoke. Draco looked to Harry, and was shocked at what he saw. For the first time ever, he saw genuine fear on his face. Fear he hadn't even seen when Harry went up against Voldemort.  
  
"Remember who we are, Harry." It was the only thing Draco could offer, and he hoped that Harry understood.  
  
Before Harry could say anything, another patronus came zooming into the room. "I bring news from the Muggles." It was a bird of some type. "They know how to get into Diagon Alley, some silly witch caved. They want to meet in London...for a duel."  
  
Again, there was that stunned silence, even Draco couldn't quite get his head wrapped around what the bird was saying.  
  
"When?" was all that Harry asked.  
  
"At midnight," the bird answered.  
  
Harry looked around the room, before he gave his answer. "We'll be there."  
  
Every patronus left to deliver the message to their respective owners.

~~*~~

Draco stood next to Harry, with their army of witches and wizards. On one hand, Draco wanted to laugh. There was no way that any of these Muggles would survive, so this duel was absurd. Yet, there they stood, the magical world on one side, and the Muggles on the other. For what seemed like forever, they just stood there, sizing up their opponents.

 

**_Staring down the bullet_ **

Then all of a sudden, the Muggles raised their weapons.  
  
In turn, the magical people took out their wands, ready to fight. Draco had no idea why it was so important, but he looked sideways at Harry, and whispered,  
  
"We're superior to them."  
  
"What?" Harry whispered back.  
  
"Admit it, you know that we are better than them?"  
  
"You really want to have this conversation now?"  
  
"No, I just want to know the truth from you."  
  
Again, there was just silence. Then...  
"I know we are better," Harry finally admitted. "I just don't understand why that is so important."  
  
Draco smiled. "Because if you believe, we will win whatever is going to happen tonight."  
  
Harry didn't quite understand Draco's point, but it didn't matter to Draco if Harry got it or not. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was smart and very powerful, the Muggles didn't stand a chance.  
  
There was a movement within the Muggle group, and the magical group held on tighter to their wands. The crowd at the front parted, and a hooded figure walked out ahead of the Muggle group. The figure walked up close to the magical side, but Draco couldn't see who was under the hood. When the figure stopped, Draco realised just how much tension was in the air.  
  
The figure stretched out a hand, which was cloaked in a black leather glove. It was hard to see what was in the hand, but Draco heard Harry gasp.  
  
There was a small, round stone resting on the palm of the gloved hand. Then everything seemed to happen at once.  
  
The figures other hand touched the stone, looking as if it was twisting it, and Harry flicked his wrist.  
  
"Expelliarmus!"  
  
Draco saw the Muggles, and knew what was coming next.

**_Let me make my final stand_ **

 

There was a blinding flash of light. Everything glowed bright white, and all the noise suddenly stopped. Draco had no idea what was happening. Was he dead?

 

**_Shot down in a blaze of glory_ ** **_  
  
**To be continued ...**_ **


End file.
